Ice Rink Confessions
by AlwaysVictory
Summary: Jim never imagined that a simple decision to spend some time in Forks would lead him back to her. Takes place after "Star Trek: Beyond."


A/N. So I took a rather long break from writing, and this turned out to be a great way to get back into things.

This story was written for HolidayHideaway18 and is not in any way related to my other HP/ST stories.

My Prompt: Hermione Granger + James Kirk + Forks, Washington + Frosty Mittens. This version is slightly longer than the one I have posted on AO3.

Huge thanks to my amazing alpha/beta **_Insanity-Red._**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Bloomsbury, and Scholastic respectively. Star Trek is owned by Gene Roddenberry, CBS, and Paramount Pictures. All canon characters, plots, and situations are not owned by me, and I make no profit from this story.

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Ice Rink Confessions

 _ **Stardate 2266.350**_ — _**Forks, Washington, Earth**_

Jim sat on a bench in Hernandez Memorial Park and observed the people on the rink. Everywhere he looked, the bright holiday lights of dozens of Earth and Federation traditions glittered and glowed. Diverse crowd of humans and non-humans alike populated the skating rink—some alone, some in family groups, and even more hand-in-hand with their significant other.

He wasn't entirely sure what brought him here tonight. Perhaps it was the fact that he didn't have anything in particular to do. Or perhaps he just wanted to remind himself what one of her favourite activities felt like. It wasn't like he had a lot of opportunities to go skating between commanding a starship and going on away missions.

Four years. It had been four years since he'd last seen her after she'd left the _Enterprise_ in the middle of their five-year mission. He could only blame himself for that. And he had, whenever the thought of her came to mind—which had been often over the years. If he hadn't acted on impulse and kissed her that night on the observation deck, she might have never left.

" _It wouldn't be appropriate for me to be involved with my captain,"_ she'd told him.

He'd explained to her desperately that Starfleet Regulations frowned upon fraternization between officers and their superiors, but didn't strictly forbid it—that he was willing to give them a try for something more than friendship, as long as she was too.

She'd looked at him sadly. " _I trust you, James. I trust you with my life . . . But I'm not sure I can trust you with my heart."_

Three days later she was gone. Got a transfer to Regula I, saying that she'd like to focus on her numerous projects instead of wandering the quadrant identifying anomalies and occasionally having to fight for her life.

It was an ice pick to the heart. He'd tried to lock up all the loss, and pain and regret—even his affection for her, in hopes that the sheer amount of feeling would simply die away. But thoughts of her were like tireless invaders; he rarely went a day without her popping into his head some way or another.

Jim gave his head a shake and pulled out a pair of skates from his bag. He put them on, but even as he watched for an opening to get on the ice, he found himself once more caught up in people-watching. Some youngsters glided along easily to music from a loudspeaker. An elderly couple skated by, holding hands and smiling at each other. Another couple was dancing, lost in their own little world. A Denobulan, who looked like he was first time on skates, struggled to remain upright, while his two friends assisted him—though knowing Denobulans, his 'friends' could as easily be his spouses.

A slight figure, twirling with casual grace on a pair of thin blades, drew Jim's attention. As the skater drew closer, he did a double take. His breath caught in his throat as she flew by him, her gaze fixed straight ahead. By the time he remembered how to breathe again, she was on the far side of the rink, spinning idly with a far-off look on her face.

Without thinking too much, Jim stepped onto the rink and began gliding towards her. She noticed him when he was only a few meters away. Her eyes widened, but then her expression morphed into happiness as she launched herself at him.

"James!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck to hug him.

Without hesitation, he put his arms around her and drew her closer.

 _This is familiar. This feels right_ , he thought.

But she was already pulling away.

She took a moment to regard him as she caught her breath. Her cheeks were flushed from cold and exercise.

"What are you doing in Forks?" she asked, smiling.

"A crew member recommended this place," he replied, shrugging. "Said it was relatively quiet here. Great scenery."

The skaters flew by, some tossing them disapproving glances for standing there like lumps in the middle of the rink.

"And you?" Jim asked, ignoring them.

She grabbed his hand, pulling him along, and they began to skate around the rink.

"Nyota and I came here once during winter break while we were still at the Academy. She wanted to explore the Olympic Peninsula. We quite liked it," she said. "It's peaceful."

They skated for a few moments in silence, still hand-in-hand. Eventually, Hermione pulled away to stuff her hands, clad in frosty, blue mittens, into her pockets.

"How have you been?" she asked, glancing up at him. "I thought you were still on the five-year mission?"

"I was," he confirmed. "Just got back last week."

He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Outwardly, she was almost exactly the same. Inwardly though . . . Who knew? Four years was a long time, and Jim knew better than anyone how quickly people could change.

Questions flooded his mind. When did she get back to Earth? What was going on in her life? Was she here alone? Had she . . . found someone?

Despite their friendship back in the day, they hadn't really been in touch over the past four years—mainly just messages on birthdays and holidays, with the occasional ' _Hi, how are you?'_ followed by a brief update on her projects and his adventures. Nothing like the conversations on every subject imaginable they'd shared in the past. Separation via deep space exploration didn't exactly lend itself to strengthening relationships—and that wasn't even mentioning how they'd parted ways last time.

He decided to start with something easy.

"What happened to Regula I?"

She shrugged. "I guess I just got a little tired. Needed a change of scenery."

 _Why did her accent send shivers down his spine?_

"I know the feeling," he said.

She looked up at him curiously.

"Five years in deep space is a long time," he explained. "It was an exciting idea back at the beginning, but it wears on you."

When she didn't say anything to that, he added, "Not that I wouldn't go out there again. But a break is nice. So I'm out here while the _Enterprise_ gets her major refit—which I'm told should take a year or so."

He bumped her shoulder with his and smiled. "Apparently, a lot of the components they'll be installing have been improved by you."

"I've been busy." She shrugged, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Restraining an overwhelming desire to place an arm around her shoulders and pull her close, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and chuckled. "I'd say so. What's next? A new propulsion system that'll replace existing warp drives?"

"Something like that," she agreed.

"Wait, you're serious?"

She nodded. "I called it a coaxial drive. It'll give a starship the capability to fold the fabric of space, and thereby allow it to travel instantaneously across extremely large distances. Sort of like Apparition, but on a much larger scale."

Jim let out a whistle and stopped to stare at her. "You're amazing, you know that?"

She looked away as more colour flooded her cheeks. "Thank you, but the project is still practically preliminary—I'm not even certain that the figures are sound yet."

"I have every confidence in you."

She gave him a small smile and continued skating. As Jim silently moved next to her, he contemplated all the possibilities of what the future of space exploration might look like.

"You've gotten much better, you know," Hermione said, interrupting his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"At skating," she clarified. "Do you remember the first time we went skating?"

"How can I forget?" he chuckled.

It had been shortly after the _Enterprise_ 's shakedown cruise, eight years ago. God, had it really been that long? Hermione had made a comment about him being too cocky and wanted to see him out of his element. Never one to refuse a dare, Jim had accepted the challenge and invited her to the synthetic rink at the Archer Memorial Gardens in San Francisco. He'd made a complete fool of himself that day and went home with a lot of bruised body parts—his ego included.

"I've been practicing," he said.

She smiled. "I can see that."

"Skating makes me feel closer to you," he blurted out. "And I really missed you."

And he did miss her. Terribly. Every time someone would mention Shakespeare, he'd think of her—not just because of her name, but because she'd inherited a fondness for his works from the parents who had given her said name. Every time he'd look over at the secondary science station, he'd almost expect to see her there with that focused little furrow between her brows. Once he'd even embarrassed himself by calling Lieutenant Afovia by her name. Every time he'd received an alert for a personal transmission, he'd hoped it would be from her. Occasionally his hopes had become reality.

He'd always wanted a future on the _Enterprise_ , among the stars, but after meeting her . . . he'd also hoped that she'd be right there with him. Might as well admit it to himself. He wanted Hermione. He'd had a lot of flings over the years, but Hermione was different. She was wildly intelligent, witty, and willing to break rules when necessary. She was everything he wanted, and nothing he didn't. 'Perfect' wasn't a term he ever really used, but he had yet to find a better word.

He missed her smile. The way she determinedly bit her lip when she was thinking hard. The way her eyes twinkled when she found something amusing. Just the way she made him feel.

Hermione seemed startled by his confession, hastily looking away and focusing her attention elsewhere.

Sparkling snowflakes began to lazily drift down from the gray sky above, like thousands of tiny angels. Like magic. They settled on Hermione's hair, got caught on her eyelashes. She took off a mitten and held out her bare hand for the snowflakes to melt on.

"James?" She bit her lip, glancing up at him. "Would you . . . like to go for a cup of hot cocoa with me? For old times sake? I know a good place nearby."

He felt himself smile. "I'd love to."

He rubbed the back of his neck. Now would be a good time to ask _the_ question.

"Won't your boyfriend mind?" he probed.

She shook her head. "Haven't got one. Unless you count my work. And you? How about your girlfriend?"

His smile grew wider. "Haven't got one. Unless you count the _Enterprise_."

She gave him a disbelieving look.

"It's true," he said, turning serious. "There was only one woman I ever wanted to be serious with, and she told me she'd trust me with her life, but not with her heart."

"You still remember that?" she whispered, her eyes growing wide.

He reached for one of her curls, lightly winding it around his finger and letting go.

"I remember everything about you, from the moment we met."

He took a slow breath, contemplating his next words. He settled on just being honest—he had nothing to lose anyway.

"I love you, Hermione," he confessed, locking his eyes onto hers. "I've never stopped loving you. I don't think I ever will."

She stared at him, shock plainly written on her features, but he kept going, "And I understand why you'd be reluctant to even contemplate a relationship with me. I know I've done a lot of stupid things in the past. I mean, I definitely told you about some of them . . . But I'd like to think that I've grown up. I've been a real ass to a lot of women who definitely deserved better, and I've tried to make amends . . . I just—"

Her mittens fell to the ground, and she placed her hands on his shoulders and shook her head.

"It was never about that, James," she said, her hands travelling up to cup his face. "I don't care about what you've done in the past or who you've done it with - we all make mistakes. I care about the person you are now."

She paused, taking a shaky breath. "That's who I fell in love with."

"What?" he choked, stunned not only by her words, but also by the intensity of her gaze, the apprehension and obvious affection on her face.

"I love you, James," she said. "I have for a while. The more time I spent with you—around you—the stronger my feelings grew. And it scared me."

"Why?"

"Because love makes you vulnerable," she said, running a thumb over the light stubble of his chin and staring there instead of looking him in the eye. "It was never you specifically that I didn't trust with my heart. It was anyone. Everyone. I know now it was stupid of me, but at the time it seemed just easier to stay away. Especially after . . . after you died."

Her hands slid down to crumple around his jacket. He was horrified to see tears welling up in her eyes.

"You died, James! You literally died when Khan . . ."

He swallowed, his mind reeling at all the things he was hearing.

"Only because you weren't there," he said jokingly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Then, realizing that it might have sounded like he was blaming her for that, he hurried to add, "You saved my life so many times over the years, I've lost count. And I totally understand why you couldn't be there with me that time—you were busy saving Pike's life, and I could never begrudge you that. You know that he's like a father to me, and . . ." He trailed off and swiped at the first tear that slid down her cheek.

"God, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm making you cry, and I'm messing this up. Am I messing this up?"

She shook her head slightly, the corners of her lips tugging upward, and then pulled him down by the back of his neck and pressed her lips to his. He kissed her back slowly, tenderly, feeling something crack apart and melt inside him, and it hurt in an exquisite way. All his longings, all his dreams, all the anguish—everything was transformed and enchanted.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt right with the universe.

"Does that answer your question?" she asked breathlessly when she pulled away.

He chuckled. "I think I might have to hear more to get a clearer picture."

He slid his hands up her back and buried his face in her hair.

"I'm so sorry," she said after a few moments, her voice small. "It was stupid of me to walk away back then."

"Well," he said, hugging her tighter, "we'll just have to make up for the lost time."

"Which brings me to a very important question," she said lifting her head to meet his gaze. "Do you have any plans for the holidays?"

He felt his heart swell with happiness. He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, reveling in the fact that this was something he was now allowed.

"I was hoping we could spend them together."

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A/N. Happy New Year!


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